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No, thank you.
“Well, it seems you are in an excellent position to help me then, Lady Demeter,” he said formally.
She blinked, glanced at him for a moment then drained the rest of her ale, cupping the empty tankard in both hands. “Yes,” she said, her voice slightly strained. “Yes, it does.”
His gut panged. His instincts told him he was courting trouble here. He’d have to tread exceedingly carefully.
Chapter Twelve
For someone who claimed to have excellent observation skills, Demeter couldn’t believe she’d never noticed the flicker of pain in Blake’s gaze before. He hid it well but after years of watching him, how had she missed it? His shoulders were tense, lines furrowed his brow and his jaw ticked. Gone was the quick, easy smile and the amusement perpetually creasing his eyes.
She tried to concentrate on the conversation as it turned to following his cousin and finding out why he was meeting with unsavory people, but she could not help wondering...what had caused the pain there?
She held up a hand as he rattled out his plans. “Slow down. How do you expect to be there? Your cousin shall recognize you.”
“I shall take advice from you, of course.”
“From me?”
“I shall disguise myself.”
She shook her head. “It will never work.”
“Of course it will. Look at you...” He waved an open palm up and down her. “It’s obvious you are a girl—”
“Woman,” she corrected.
“Woman,” he said. “But only when one knows what to look for. No one expects a beautiful girl—woman—to be disguising herself as a man just as my cousin will never expect me to do be doing such things.”
“I think I should go alone.”
He jabbed a firm finger at the table. “I am many things, Demeter, but I’m no fool. The inn this meeting is taking place at is no welcoming tavern like this. I would never forgive myself if you came to harm.”
She wanted to argue but the fact was, even Pidgeon’s was usually safe and easy to walk to. With the exception of being accosted the other week, she had never run into trouble. If Blake thought this inn dangerous, she believed him.
“Very well. So we shall arrive in disguise and try to find out what the meeting is about.”
“Indeed.”
“A-and you shall send word when it is to take place?”
“I need to speak with that, uh, woman. She spends...time with one of the gentlemen I saw Foster with.”
Her cheeks blazed hot, though she could not tell if it was because of the topic of conversation or because she hated the thought of him being with another woman.
He glanced around as a group of loud men entered the pub, likely having come from the docks. They were filthy, sweaty, and demanding, with the man at the head of the pack snatching one of the serving girl’s waists and dragging her into him.
Blake went rigid, his expression hardening. She’d never seen him look so...primal. It made her feel breathless.
“We should leave,” he said. “This inn is not as pleasant as usual.”
There was no reason to argue with him so she didn’t point out that she would appear as a boy to them and likely draw no hassle. She wished their evening did not have to come to an end. She wished she could press him further, find out quite why his expression had hardened, especially after he’d seemed so…interested in her. It was an utterly new sensation and she could not help but like it. She wanted more.
He rose so sharply, his chair screeched against the wooden floor, drawing a few looks their way and giving her no chance to change her mind on arguing with him. He strode with bold steps to the door and she scurried to catch up with him.
“I hardly think...” she said breathlessly as they spilled into the cool night air, “we needed to run away.”
“I never run.” He adjusted his jacket and looked up and down the road. His carriage must have parked in the stables behind the building or on a quiet street as the only vehicles were a passing hack and several small wagons. “But you are trouble, Demeter.”
